Jack Among the Indians; Or, A Boy's Summer on the Buffalo Plains

by George Bird Grinnell

"How do you mean a bad dream, Joe?" said Jack. "What's that got to do with their going to war?"

"Why," said Joe, "it's got a whole lot to do with it. Don't you know that dreams come to us to tell us what is going to happen? And if a man dreams that some bad luck is coming, he's got to look out, for if he isn't careful, the bad thing will happen and maybe he'll get killed, or hurt himself, or get sick."

"Well," said Jack, "that seems queer. I never heard of anything like that before. Doing things because dreams tell you to, or not doing them because dreams tell you not to!"

"Well," said Joe, "it's so. You ask any of the old men, they'll tell you. There have been lots of times when men have started off on the war-path, and dreamed they saw themselves wounded, and then have been wounded, and sometimes men have dreamed that they saw one of the party lying dead on the ground, and a little while after, the man that they dreamed about was killed by enemies. I tell you, the Indians depend a whole lot on dreams."

"Well, son," said Hugh to Jack later in the day, "don't you want to try your new horse? Let's saddle up and ride a few miles up the lakes and see what sort of a beast he is. I asked John Monroe about him, and he says he's a running horse, a good buffalo horse or a good pony for war."

"Yes, Hugh," said Jack, "I'd like to try him first-rate."

The two went out and saddled their horses and crossing the river, rode along the trail up the lake. When they came to one of the little open parks they ran a short race, and Jack's horse proved to be very fast. They kept on up the lake for five or six miles, and then, as the mosquitoes were bad, turned about and rode back to the camp.

As they drew up in front of the lodge, Jack saw sitting there, a man, whom at first he took to be very old, but after they had unsaddled and had walked up to him, he saw that he was not such a very old man, but that his hair was white, all except two black locks on the right side. He was extremely tall and very thin. Hugh seemed very glad to see the man and shook hands with him most cordially; then after speaking to him for a few moments, he called Jack to him and said, "Son, I want you to know this man; this is Last Bull. He is one of the best men of the tribe. He is getting old now, but in his time he has been a great warrior. He is not such a very old man as you would think from his white hair, he is one of those gray-haired people such as you see lots of in the tribe, and his hair has always been this colour since he was a little child. I'd like to have you know him well, and I want to have him like you. He is a good man."

Jack shook hands with the man who smiled in a most kindly way, and then turning to Hugh spoke at some length. Hugh looked greatly pleased and said, "Why, son, Last Bull has always been a great friend of mine, and he says that hearing that you had come to the camp with me, and hearing, too, about the good things that you have done since you came, he wants to give you a name; probably it will be some name that he has borne himself when he was a young man. What do you say, would you like to have him do so? If he gives you a name he will always regard himself as your adopted father, and will think a great deal of you."